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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24815284">Antithesis</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomhivemast3r/pseuds/phantomhivemast3r'>phantomhivemast3r</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ineffable Fics [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Angel Crowley is Raphael, Azirafell is a magpie demon, Crossover, Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Humor, M/M, Speremint's reverse omens au, post-armageddidn't, reverse au, they're idiots in every universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:29:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,377</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24815284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomhivemast3r/pseuds/phantomhivemast3r</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Azirafell finds something unexpected when returning to his shop one afternoon- the pawnshop is now a bookstore, containing a fussy angel with a very familiar face. Meanwhile, on the other side of town, an equally familiar-looking demon awaits Anthony back at his flat. Now, Aziraphale and Crowley must figure out how to get their opposite selves home, a feat which shouldn’t be too hard for a group of supernatural beings… provided they can get along for more than a few minutes at a time, of course.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ineffable Fics [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1510436</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I love the concept of Reverse AUs, so I decided to try my hand at a crossover between the “original” ineffable husbands and their corresponding pair from another universe.  </p><p>All credit for the Reverse Azirafell and Anthony designs and base personalities goes to Speremint (https://speremint.tumblr.com/); I adore her Reverse AU and wanted to try my hand at writing something with it. Go check out her page for fanart and original comics!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Part 1</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>Azirafell stepped out of the taxicab and slammed the door shut behind him, snapping his fingers to miracle a few dollars into the driver’s hand. The demon didn’t feel like exchanging final pleasantries; while he’d been able to shut his eyes, it hadn’t been much of a rest, as the ride had been unnecessarily bumpy and left him in a slightly sour mood. All he wanted to do was go to his pawnshop and pour over the latest collection of knickknacks he’d picked up.</p><p>So, it was with great shock that once the taxi sped off and Azirafell turned around, he found an old, dingy bookstore standing in the space where his pawnshop should be. The demon blinked a few times, rubbed his eyes, then blinked again. Sure enough, the bookshop remained- a place that looked dusty, warm, and unbearably <em>homey</em>. This must be part of some elaborate prank, the demon thought with noise of disgust, though Azirafell had no idea who would dare try such a thing on <em>him.</em></p><p>“Alright, what the <em>heaven </em>happened to my shop?!” the demon exclaimed, slamming open the old wooden doors. It was just a he feared- rows upon rows of dusty, filled-to-the-brim bookshelves. Azirafell’s lip curled into a scowl as he stalked further into the room, trying to find the cause of his beloved shop’s upheaval.</p><p>Meanwhile, Aziraphale the angel had been carefully restoring an ancient book when the slammed door caused him to jerk in surprise and tear a hole right through the page he was working on. He sucked in a breath, trying to control his swiftly rising temper, and henceforth missed the loud declaration from the intruder. Aziraphale carefully set his tools down and stood, adjusting his waistcoat in preparation for meeting his uninvited guest. He took a few seconds before leaving the back room to see if he could sense any supernatural presence- sure enough, the unmistakable tingle of demonic energy filled the air around him.</p><p>The angel frowned. Crowley often came over unannounced, and while he usually entered dramatically- as “dramatic” was the demon’s default setting-, he’d never slammed the doors like that before. With a twinge of fear, Aziraphale wondered if something bad happened- had Hell gotten over their fear of the demon who could (supposedly) survive holy water and come to destroy him once and for all?</p><p>“My dear?!” Aziraphale called, rushing out into the main room, looking around frantically. “Are you alri-”</p><p>The angel sharply cut off his words as he rounded a corner and came across the demon- at least, the creature’s aura certainly identified it as a demon. The face, however…</p><p>“Um… what’s going on?” said the other version of Aziraphale, and the angel frowned, noting the double pupils and, more concerningly-</p><p>“My goodness, whatever are you <em>wearing?!”</em> Aziraphale blurted out before he could stop himself. He clapped a hand over his mouth, knowing this to be the least of his worries, but he couldn’t help it. He prided himself on his fashion, as outdated as it was, and to see himself in a coat of deep teal, black, and white in lord knows what sort of pattern caused an involuntary reaction of horror.</p><p>“What am <em>I </em>wearing?!” the mirror image said, lips twisting in a sneer unbecoming on such a face. “What in Satan's name are <em>you </em>wearing?! You look like you stepped out of a Victorian catalogue! It’s the twenty-first century!”</p><p>“Excuse you, this outfit is considered ‘vintage,’ which I’ve been told is all the rage now!” Aziraphale pursed his lips, unable to stop himself from verbally lashing back. If Crowley saw him now, he would be astounded. But, the demon before him was <em>not</em> Crowley, and therein lied part of the problem. Aziraphale shook his head briskly, clearing away the thoughts of fashion choices in favor of more pressing matters.</p><p>“This shouldn’t be our concern right now,” he said, voice returning to a calm, reassuring lilt. The mirror version of himself flinched at this, as if physically pained by the angel’s demeanor. “Let’s try this again- I am Aziraphale, an angel, and this is my bookshop. And you are?”</p><p>“Azira<em>fell,</em>” the other version said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “A demon, and this is <em>supposed </em>to be my pawnshop.”</p><p>“…Right,” the angel said, resisting the urge to comment on the demon’s on-the-nose choice of name. He knew Crowley would certainly mention it if he were there. “Well, I regret to inform you, but this building has never been a pawnshop; I’ve owned this bookstore for well over two centuries.”</p><p>“Same amount of time as my own establishment,” Fell said, one eyebrow raised. “I have a feeling that one of us isn’t where they’re supposed to be… and that would probably be me.” The demon let out a huff of air and rolled his eyes. “Typical. Nothing is every easy, is it?”</p><p>“Indeed,” Aziraphale said, thinking of how to get this unnerving version of himself out of his bookshop as soon as possible. He certainly couldn’t contact Heaven- not that he ever <em>would,</em> seeing as he was on his own side now-, and Hell was surely out of the question. So, really, the only option was-</p><p>“Anthony!” Fell suddenly exclaimed, startling the angel. The demon frowned, staring at the floor in contemplation. “I wonder if he ended up here, too…”</p><p>“Your Crowley?” Aziraphale ventured, and the demon met his gaze with a nod. Aziraphale smiled. “Well, it seems we’re both of the same mindset, at least somewhat. I was going to suggest we call <em>my</em> Crowley and see if he’d have any idea of how to sort this out, seeing as demons are more of his thing…”</p><p>Aziraphale trailed off with a vague hand gesture and Fell sighed again, flopping onto a nearby couch with a weary wave of his hand.</p><p>“Fine, sounds like as good a plan as any,” he responded. Aziraphale beamed at him even more and the demon wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, will you wipe that stupid grin off your face? It’s <em>unnerving</em>.”</p><p>“I could say the same about your constant scowl,” Aziraphale muttered tetchily, not liking when he was told not to smile. However, he knew arguing further was a lost cause, so he ignored the demon’s scoff and went over to the phone. He dialed Crowley’s home number first, figuring that he would try his cell if he didn’t answer.</p><p>“Hey, Aziraphale,” Crowley answered on the second ring, and the angel frowned. Crowley didn’t usually greet him by name.</p><p>“Hello, my dear. Um, I’m not quite sure how to explain this, but I seem to be having a sort of… <em>situation</em> at my bookshop.” Aziraphale glanced at the demon still lounging on the couch. Though Fell faced away from him and was seemingly focused on examining his nails, the angel was certain he was listening carefully to everything he said.</p><p>“Let me take a wild guess,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale heard a twinge of strain in his voice. “Another you showed up at your place and nearly took your head off?”</p><p>“Er, well, I wouldn’t say he ‘nearly took my head off…’” Aziraphale frowned, noticing that the demon on his couch had perked up and was now watching him, fully focused on the conversation. “But yes, there is another version of myself here. Well, sort of. He’s…”</p><p>“Guessing again- he’s a demon?”</p><p>“Yes, actually.” Aziraphale’s frown deepened and then he jumped suddenly as Fell appeared at his side and snatched the phone away.</p><p>“Crowley, right?” the demon said, sticking out an arm out to physically hold Aziraphale away from grabbing the phone back. There was a beat of silence on the other end, before Crowley responded, slowly:</p><p>“…Who’s this?”</p><p>“Oh, it’s Lord Beelzebub, just dropping in on the call to say hello,” Fell responded with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Who do you<em> think</em> it is?! It’s another version of your angel- and I’m guessing you have <em>my </em>angel in your apartment right now?”</p><p>“Uh, y-yeah,” Crowley said, and Fell smirked at how utterly taken aback he sounded.</p><p>“Okay, good. Well, not really <em>good,</em> but at least we’re in the same boat. Now- <em>hey!”</em></p><p>The ever-smoldering fire in Fell’s eyes flashed as Aziraphale snapped his fingers and miracled the phone back into his hand. The angel smiled triumphantly and quickly said into the mouthpiece:</p><p>“Crowley, dear, it’s me- listen, I think it’d be best if you and Anthony meet us at the bookshop so we can sort out this whole mess as soon as possible. Agreed?”</p><p>“Agreed,” Crowley responded. He paused, then said, softly, “Be careful, Angel, alright?”</p><p>“Of course, of course.” Aziraphale waved his hand to brush away Crowley’s concerns. “I’ll be perfectly fine; just<em> please</em> get here as fast as you can.”</p><p>“Will do; see you soon.”</p><p>With a click, Crowley hung up the phone. Aziraphale did likewise and then focused his attention back to the demon in his bookshop, who currently stood with his arms crossed and a mildly annoyed expression etched across his face. Aziraphale cleared his throat and tried another smile, which was met with another curl of the demon’s lip.</p><p>“Right, well, Crowley and Anthony are on their way,” Aziraphale said. “Knowing Crowley’s driving, I’m sure they’ll be here soon, but… care for a spot of tea while we wait?”</p><p>***</p><p>Approximately thirty minutes before Crowley’s phone rang, he was tending to his plants. The large fern by the window looked particularly scrawny, and Crowley was giving it a stern lecture when an overwhelmingly angelic presence appeared out of nowhere, almost knocking him to the ground with the sheer force of it. The demon steadied himself and gripped the plant mister tighter in his hand; he’d used it as a weapon once, and he’d use it again if need be (though he doubted tap water would have much effect on an angel save for making it angry at being spritzed).</p><p>Crowley cautiously stalked towards his front door, plant mister held out in front of him like a gun, wondering what any angel other than Aziraphale could want with him. And this angel was <em>definitely </em>not Aziraphale. Crowley was extremely familiar with the soft vibe that hid Aziraphale’s true nature as a Principality; his angel gave off a sense of warmth and comfort, unlike the presence Crowley felt now that gave off an aura of cold power. Whoever this new company was, they meant business.</p><p>The doorknob jiggled a bit as Crowley stopped dead center in the middle of the room, ready to attack. He wondered half-heartedly if he should call Aziraphale and let him know that something was about to go down, but he knew that any distraction could mean his instant discorporation. Because he and Aziraphale were now on their own sides, Crowley wasn’t sure they would get another chance at returning to earth with human bodies. So, he decided to face the potential threat head-on and hope for the best.</p><p>“Who’s there?” he called loudly, putting a demonically threatening undertone into his voice. Crowley sensed the presence on the other side of the door still for a moment, before a shockingly familiar voice responded:</p><p>“I should be asking <em>you</em> the same question, demon.”</p><p>Crowley blinked, plant mister lowering a millimeter as he struggled to understand why his own voice had responded. There was a gentle sigh on the other end of the door and another half-hearted shake of the doorknob.</p><p>“Listen, we can make this easy, or we can make this difficult- your choice,” the voice said, and though its tone was calm Crowley knew the presence wasn’t playing around. Still in a fighting stance, ready for an altercation, Crowley snapped his fingers and miracled the multiple locks on the front door open. Slowly, the door swung inwards to reveal the last person the demon expected to see.</p><p>“…Well,” said the other version of himself, dressed in white and pink and brandishing a glowing caduceus staff in front of him. “This is unexpected.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After they’d both gotten over the initial shock and had put away their weapons (which involved setting the plant mister on a desk and making the golden staff disappear with an elaborate hand gesture), the Crowleys found themselves staring awkwardly at each other.</p>
<p>“So…” they began at the same time, then snapped their jaws shut in favor of staring some more. Eventually, the demon cleared his throat.</p>
<p>“So, er, I’m not really sure what’s going on, but this isn’t your flat,” he said, watching his other self carefully. They’d brushed past the whole “demon vs. angel” bit pretty quickly, but based on the sheer power he’d felt when Anthony had been riled up, Crowley could tell that this alternate version of himself was no ordinary celestial being.</p>
<p>“No, I can see that,” Anthony replied curtly, his gaze wandering around the smooth, lackluster walls of the apartment. “There must have been some sort of mix-up or… something.” He let out a sigh.</p>
<p>“Right,” Crowley agreed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans (a miracle in itself), watching Anthony intently as he began wandering around the room, running his fingertips lightly over the walls. “We need to get this sorted asap. I should probably call—wait.” Golden eyes grew wide behind Crowley’s dark glasses. “If <em>you’re </em>the angel, then does that mean… your Aziraphale…”</p>
<p>“Azira<em>fell,</em> actually—and that should also answer your question.” Anthony disappeared through the swinging door that led to Crowley’s nursery and let out a gasp. “Oh my—<em>look </em>at these plants! They’re <em>gorgeous!”</em></p>
<p>Crowley barely registered the praise, his mind too focused on trying to picture his beloved Aziraphale as a demon. No matter how hard he thought, the image simply wouldn’t come… a fact which, in truth, he was quite grateful about.</p>
<p>“Good to know that my plants are well taken care of, even in alternate universe,” Anthony said with a smile, returning to Crowley’s side. The angel blinked, a brief frown crossing his face. “Or… wherever I am. Hmm. Yes, we really <em>should </em>sort this out.”</p>
<p>“I’ll give Aziraphale a call,” Crowley said, already reaching for the phone, but just as his fingertips brushed the receiver it began to ring. Anthony met his gaze for a second, one eyebrow raised, and Crowley picked up the phone.</p>
<p>“Hey, Aziraphale,” he said, hoping that the angel would pick up on something amiss, since Crowley rarely used his actual name. Sure enough, as Crowley was beginning to suspect, something was happening at the bookshop as well.</p>
<p>One rather disconcerting phone call later, Crowley slowly hung up the receiver and turned back to Anthony. The angel gave him a reassuring smile, seeing the poorly-disguised distress creeping into his expression.</p>
<p>“I heard Azirafell jump on the line for a minute,” the angel said, and Crowley nodded. “He can be a little… <em>intense</em>.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I got that,” Crowley responded. He let out a resolute huff of air, then gestured to the front door. “I guess we should be off, then.”</p>
<p>“I have another question, though I think I know the answer already,” Anthony said, following Crowley out the front door.</p>
<p>“Hmm?” Crowley spared a brief glance over his shoulder, snapping his fingers to miracle the door locked as they headed out of the apartment.</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t happen to drive a Bentley, would you?”</p>
<p>This time Crowley did turn around, walking backwards a few steps to flash a toothy grin, which Anthony returned with a smile of his own. A few seconds later, they emerged onto the street and Crowley gestured broadly to the sleek, vintage car parked on the curb.</p>
<p>“Black? Really?” Anthony said, a mildly disgusted sneer twisting up the corner of his mouth.</p>
<p>Crowley scoffed, offended. “Of <em>course</em> it’s black—there’s no better color for a car! What color is yours, then?!”</p>
<p>“White, of course.”</p>
<p>Crowley made an exaggerated gagging noise and Anthony rolled his eyes. They reached the car and piled in the front, Crowley trying to push down the sudden urge to physically shove the angel out of the passenger seat and onto the pavement. The number of passengers who had ridden in the Bentley could be counted on one hand, but regardless of who was in the car, the front passenger seat was <em>always</em> reserved for Aziraphale. However, this would be a short trip (even shorter that usual, since Crowley planned to drive at double his typical speed), and a side-eyed glance at Anthony showed that the angel was equally as uncomfortable being in that seat.  </p>
<p>The car engine revved, <em>Another One Bites the Dust </em>blasted out of the nonexistent stereo system<em>, </em>and the pair were off.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>By this point, the beings in the bookshop had moved to the couch, sitting at each end as far away from each other as they physically could. Aziraphale made some tea and was intrigued to find that, despite being so different at the outset, Fell took his tea exactly the same way he did. It seemed that, fundamentally, they <em>did </em>share some things in common.</p>
<p>“You don’t seem unnerved at being so close to a demon,” Fell commented, briefly glancing up from examining his perfectly-manicured, black-painted nails.</p>
<p>“Certainly not,” the angel responded primly, straightening his posture. Seeing another version of himself slouched so far into the couch was disconcerting, to say the least; it made Aziraphale want to sit as upright as possible to make up the difference. “I suppose you’re not bothered being so close to an angel, either.”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” Fell snorted, rolling his eyes. “Especially one as <em>prim</em> and <em>proper </em>as you.” He enunciated the words mockingly, causing Aziraphale to narrow his eyes. Crowley teased him like this on occasion, but it was another thing entirely to be insulted by yourself. Fell looked the angel up and down before refocusing on his nails. “You’re almost as bad as Anthony. Well, you might be worse—haven’t been around you long enough to tell.”</p>
<p>“…Your Crowley is ‘prim and proper?’” Aziraphale’s tone dripped with disbelief. He had a hard time picturing his demon sitting fully upright, let alone being the epitome of grace.</p>
<p>“It’s like he was created with a stick up his ass that never got removed,” Fell responded. He chuckled fondly. “Drives me crazy, the idiot, but I can’t seem to get rid of him.”</p>
<p>“Mm,” Aziraphale hummed in acknowledgement, and the pair lapsed into silence. Fell shifted his gaze to stare intently at the angel, eyes narrowed, causing Aziraphale to shuffle uncomfortably under the scrutiny. He took another sip of tea, cleared his throat, and asked, “…Is there anything else I can get you?”</p>
<p><em>Or do for you, or</em> anything <em>to get me off this couch</em>, the angel thought. Fell smirked in response, a brief flash of rather sharp canines.</p>
<p>“You haven’t told him yet, have you?” the demon asked. Aziraphale blinked at him.</p>
<p>“Er… pardon?”</p>
<p>“Oh, for heaven’s sake, we’re idiots in every universe, aren’t we?” Fell rolled his eyes, then suddenly shifted forward, leaning in close. “You two haven’t talked about what you mean to each other.”</p>
<p>It was a statement, not a question. Aziraphale sputtered in response, wondering if this is what Crowley must feel like when he was too stunned to articulate properly. The angel pursed his lips and took a deep breath, composing himself.</p>
<p>“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, matter-of-factly, and Fell scoffed.</p>
<p>“Bull<em>shit</em>,” the demon responded, ignoring Aziraphale’s small gasp at the curse. “I mean, it took Anthony and me thousands of years to admit it, so it makes sense it’d take you two just as long… but trust me, things will be so much better once you just <em>say it.”</em></p>
<p>“I can’t <em>trust</em> you, you’re a demon!” the angel exclaimed, but Fell merely rolled his eyes again.</p>
<p>“Yes, but I’m also <em>you</em>. And who better to tell you what a fool you’re being than yourself, hmm?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale huffed, unable to think of a response. Fell shrugged, lounging back into the plush cushions.</p>
<p>“Just think about it, will you?” the demon said. Before Aziraphale had a chance to respond, there was a loud knock on the front door, causing both beings to jump off the couch.</p>
<p>The angel sent a little prayer of thanks upwards for getting him out of the current situation as he walked to the door. He took a deep breath, stealing himself for whatever he was about to encounter. As he began turning the knob, the door swung open forcefully and Crowley stumbled into the shop, momentarily forgetting how legs worked in his panic to lay eyes on his angel.</p>
<p>"<em>Aziraphale</em>!" he exclaimed as Aziraphale blinked rapidly at him. "Whew, glad you're still... you."</p>
<p>"My dear boy, what's gotten you so worked—<em>oh</em>," Aziraphale breathed, instinctively grasping Crowley's arm and moving the demon behind him protectively. Aziraphale's celestial senses had been overcome by the presence of another angel— and quite a significant one. It set the hairs on the back of his neck on edge, which seemed strange because the new angel in question wore the same face as Crowley.</p>
<p>Yet, this was not <em>Aziraphale's </em>Crowley. This was a <em>very </em>powerful being, his aura on par with Gabriel's. This fact did nothing to ease Aziraphale's already-frazzled nerves.</p>
<p>"Ah," Aziraphale said, releasing his demon's arm and giving a shaky smile. Being around this sort of presence would explain Crowley's unease. "Hello, um..."</p>
<p>"Anthony," the other redhead introduced himself, giving a polite nod as he stepped into the doorway. "Aziraphale, I presume?" The blonde inclined his head, and Anthony flashed him a curt smile, his eyes scanning the bookshop. "Pleasure, I'm sure. Now, where's that magpie?"</p>
<p>"Took you long enough to get here," Fell said, striding up to the group, wearing a pinched expression of annoyance. Anthony's face relaxed instantly. After a beat of silence, Aziraphale spoke up.</p>
<p>"I suppose we should figure out what exactly... happened here." He frowned, trying to process the dichotomy of the opposing pair in front of him.</p>
<p>"Well, <em>I</em> certainly have no idea," Fell said with a shrug. "I was just taking a cab back to my pawnshop and somehow ended up in <em>this</em> place."</p>
<p>"I had a similar experience," Anthony added. "I walked home, but ended up in the wrong flat..."</p>
<p>"Okay, so... how do we sort this out?" Crowley asked, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops.</p>
<p>"Research?" Aziraphale suggested. "I could see if there are any books in the shop that might help..."</p>
<p>"Who knows how long that would take, Angel," Crowley said, and Aziraphale pursed his lips.</p>
<p>"Well, does anyone have a better suggestion?"</p>
<p>The distinctive melody of <em>Bohemian Rhapsody</em> suddenly filled the air. Crowley pulled his phone out of an inner jacket pocket to find a video call from Adam lighting up the screen. He raised an eyebrow, briefly showed the caller ID to the group, and hit “accept.”</p>
<p>“Hey Crowley,” Adam said as his face filled the tiny screen. Crowley noted that his usually easy smile seemed a bit tense.</p>
<p>“Hey, antichrist,” the demon responded. “What’s up?”</p>
<p>“So, um… I was trying to figure out some more of my powers—”</p>
<p>“Without supervision?!” Aziraphale and Anthony exclaimed at the same time. They shot a side-eyed glance at each other, surprised.  </p>
<p>“Uh, yeah,” Adam replied, frowning at the overlaid voices. “Sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t, but I was curious, and, well… something happened.”</p>
<p>Adam flipped the camera view to show a boy who could be his identical twin sitting on the edge of his bed. The boy waved, face lighting up in Adam’s trademark grin, but then he let out a gasp of surprise.</p>
<p>“Whoa! What happened to <em>you?!”</em> he exclaimed, and Crowley made an offended noise.</p>
<p>“Nothing’s happened to <em>me</em>!” the demon responded as the other three beings in the bookshop crowded around the phone to see what the fuss was all about. The boy on screen shifted his gaze between them, before eventually settling on Anthony.</p>
<p>“…Oh,” he said, eyes briefly flickering between the two redheads. “Yeah, Adam, my godparents definitely got brought over here, too.”</p>
<p>“Oops,” came an identical voice from behind the camera.</p>
<p>“Well, this is just <em>great,</em>” Fell muttered, rolling his eyes. “Two antichrists in one dimension; I’m sure <em>that’s </em>good for the fabric of reality…”</p>
<p>“We can fix it!” the Adam on screen said quickly, and then the camera was flipped once again.</p>
<p>“Yeah, we can fix it,” said the Adam that belonged in this universe. “Can you meet us in that big field by my house? We might need some space.” Everyone in the bookshop gave a sign of affirmation, and Adam flashed a real grin. “Great; this’ll get sorted in no time, don’t you worry. Er, just… don’t do anything that might mess up this world in the meantime. Please?”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to tell <em>us </em>that,” Anthony said sharply, and Adam laughed nervously.</p>
<p>“Right, ‘course. Well, um, see you soon! Thanks!”</p>
<p>With that, he hung up the phone. The demons and angels looked at each other for a moment, before Crowley sighed and slipped the phone back into his pocket.</p>
<p>“I guess we’d better get going; the Bentley’s just outside,” he said, and Fell groaned.</p>
<p>“You <em>would </em>have another one of those death traps, wouldn’t you?” he said, glaring as Anthony snickered at his reaction. “I’m sure you also drive like a maniac…”</p>
<p>“Oh yes,” Aziraphale confirmed with a nod. “He can’t stand to go less than eighty miles per hour on residential streets.”</p>
<p>“Only eighty?” Anthony questioned, golden eyes condescending behind his rose-tinted glasses.</p>
<p>“Wh—I—only on an off day!” Crowley sputtered indignantly, and Anthony let out a hearty laugh and patted the demon’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“Of course, of course,” the angel said, following Crowley to the door. He called over his shoulder, “Come on, fiend, let’s get home.”</p>
<p>“Don’t tell me to ‘come on,’” Fell snapped, though he immediately proceeded to follow Anthony out the door. “Where else do you think I’m going to go? Out for an evening stroll?”</p>
<p>Crowley and Aziraphale shared a raised-eyebrow glance as they followed the bickering pair out of the bookshop. Soon, the quartet was piled in the Bentley and on their way to the quaint village of Tadfield, where two antichrists currently resided.</p>
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